


Walking on Burned Bridges

by ElizabethWilde



Category: X-Men (Movies)
Genre: Abortion, F/M, First Time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-03-11
Updated: 2004-03-11
Packaged: 2017-12-04 22:48:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/715959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElizabethWilde/pseuds/ElizabethWilde
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"See, I was starting to notice that I was a little late. Not horribly overdue or anything, a few days maybe. Enough to make me paranoid."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Walking on Burned Bridges

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired entirely by the song "Brick" by Ben Folds Five while I was driving home from school the other day. Love them. And the song is so beautifully depressing! Well, and maybe a little by my visit to the gynecologist the other day. ::shrug:: 
> 
> Also, the publication date is a guess. I know it's an older fic, but I'm not sure of the date.

I guess in the end it's my fault. I'm the girl, so I'm the one who's supposed to take care of things like that, right? I should have been on the pill, but to get it, I would have had to tell my parents. I didn't have the money to pay for a gynecologist visit myself, plus I don't have a car. Plus I was scared to death to have some stranger sticking some little piece of plastic inside me and jacking me open like I was a car with a flat tire. We decided-David and I-that just condoms should be more than enough protection anyway. I mean, they're kind of a catch all, right? 

That first time was strange. Not bad or anything, just strange. We were both virgins, and although kissing was an art we had long since perfected, anything more remained territory unknown. I felt glad I had a boyfriend willing to take the time to get me ready, though. He didn't rush anything. His parents wouldn't be home for another couple of days and the house was empty, so we were free to explore. He discovered my clit and finally found a rhythm that managed to bring me close to orgasm even though I was far too nervous to let myself go quite that much. I had never climaxed with another person in the room, and I honestly didn't expect to for awhile yet.

Finally he asked if I was ready, and I said yes, though I wasn't really all that certain. It didn't take a very long time, but it also didn't hurt like I had heard it did. There was a little pressure, and I felt my hymen give way, but there wasn't really any pain, so I guess I really was ready. It took a little longer every time we tried, and after the fourth or fifth time (not that night, of course, but over the next few months), I did have an orgasm. Pretty damn good one too. Made sure to stroke David's ego a bit for that one just to make sure he remembered the right moves to try it again.

But there wasn't a next time.

See, I was starting to notice that I was a little late. Not horribly overdue or anything, a few days maybe. Enough to make me paranoid. I waited another week, sure I was overreacting, but all my panties were still clean, and I was starting to really freak out. I walked down to the corner store and bought a pregnancy test, glad my friend worked behind the counter. Sheryl wouldn't say anything. My hands were shaking the entire time while I did the stupid test and peed on the damn stick. I paced in the bathroom while I waited for the results and then curled up crying in the corner. Plus sign.

After I finished breaking down, I got up, threw the test away-careful to cover it with other debris in the trash so momma wouldn't notice-and washed my face. I didn't look different. I guess it was silly to think I should, that all of a sudden just because I knew my stomach would stick out and my boobs would start leaking, but part of me felt like that would be appropriate. I ran to my room then and called David. I barely managed to tell him for crying again, but he got the gist, because he kept saying, "Jesus... Jesus..." I felt the same way. He told me he could borrow his brother's car, told me there was a free clinic that could "take care of stuff like this." I didn't understand for a few minutes, then I started crying more. I couldn't take care of a baby. Neither of us could. But the idea of getting an abortion didn't exactly fit in either. I'm a good little southern girl, raised Southern Baptist. You just don't do things like that.

Saturday afternoon David picked me up and I told momma we were going to a movie and I went to the clinic. It was cleaner inside than it looked from the outside, but the people weren't, and they all looked at me like I was nuts, some nice-looking little white girl standing in the middle of a sea of other races, all of whom obviously felt they had more right than me to be there. Place wasn't really free, either, but it wasn't as expensive as I thought. I still decimated my Christmas fund and took a chunk out of what David was saving for a new car.

We didn't talk on the way home. I was too busy staring at nothing and trying not to cry. Honestly, I don't know what he was doing. I was too busy with my own worries and hurt and pain. They told me there would be cramping and I should take a lot of Tylenol and they were right. I cried myself to sleep that night, though the pain didn't have much to do with it. 

For the next couple months, I ignored David. He called, but I didn't answer. He tried to corner me in the hall but I slipped away with excuses about reports and teacher conferences and club meetings I had never cared about before and still didn't. One day he came over. He wanted to talk and he didn't want to wait anymore. We went up to my room since anything that could pass between us wasn't   
for the eyes of momma playing her piano or daddy in his study going over the bills. We went in my room and talked in the awkward, stilted manner of people on a first date, as if we had never sat alone together on a bed before. 

I never wanted him to touch me again. Never wanted anyone to touch me again. At least, I didn't until the silence stretched heavy and I looked over at him. I was struck by the fact that it felt the same, that when I let it, being alone with him was just like it always had been and that I wanted him just as much. I relaxed a little, and the flutters of nervousness now how had nothing to do with wanting like hell to be away from him.

So he kissed me.


End file.
